


Hot Coffee, Pretty Hands

by gaylawyers



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Tweek is good boy, awkward craig doesn't know how to talk to the guy he likes, coffee shop AU, craig is a useless homosexual, i know their whole actual lives are like a coffee shop au but i swear this is different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylawyers/pseuds/gaylawyers
Summary: AU. Tweek Tweak remembers the usual order of every single one of his regulars, except for one regular who seems to be trying every single thing from the coffee shop’s menu for seemingly no reason. Meanwhile, Craig Tucker really hates hot beverages, but that isn’t stopping him.





	Hot Coffee, Pretty Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! First South Park fic out of potentially many, haha. I had a blast writing this. I wanted to see what it'd be like if Craig had lived in Denver all his life, mixed with well... Emotional ineptitude. 
> 
> This was the result. He's a useless gay, but we love him.
> 
> Special thanks to my beta [ ayuemui ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayuemui/pseuds/ayuemui) who has his own superhero/villains au creek fic going on that's _really_ good, so check that out. 
> 
> Side note: This starts off with Tweek's perspective, but mid-way it changes to Craig's. Hope the transition between both point of views is good and not too confusing. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

—

The smell of coffee has clung to him all his life. 

It was familiar and warm, therefore it was comforting. Denver was large and unfamiliar compared to his small and… _odd_ hometown. So, of course, a local coffee shop was the first place he applied at for a job when he arrived in Denver for college. And it was the only one he needed to apply for, because they hired him on the spot. 

Being forced to work at a coffee shop all his life did huge favors for the future coffee shops looking for hire, as it turned out. 

Being a barista at said local coffee shop in Denver was pretty standard stuff, he figured. This was way different than working at his parents' place back home in South Park, that was certain. It was much more nerve-wracking. But for as twitchy and anxious as he could get, Tweek Tweak was in his zone when he worked the coffee machine. Faces came in and went- some familiar from their daily trips to the coffee shop, and other faces were new and unsure. Most seemed exhausted or rushed, of course, and sometimes both. Others seemed to simply enjoy the busy atmosphere, alone or with their friends. Working or just relaxing. Tweek liked _this_ coffee shop and the people that it brought. So he always did his best to put love into the cups he brewed himself. 

Despite his shaky hands at the cash register, the startled jump he would make whenever the little bell above the door rang, and the way he would bite his bottom lip when a customer approached, Tweek’s hazel green eyes focused on the task at hand when he had the order down. Depending on the customer, he would do something fancy with the foam, or do simple latte art. His latte art wasn’t impressive, he didn’t know how to draw as it was, but the little things he could make were cute and people seemed to appreciate them. 

Regulars always had their usual. Every so often, a regular would try something different, but they would always come back the next day asking for their usual. Whether it was out of habit or they just really liked their desired beverage, his regulars greeted him with a fond smile from the open door as Tweek’s shaky hands were already reaching for their preferred size of cup. 

It was on a particularly anxiety-filled day, where there had been customers pouring into the store all day, when Tweek met the impassive enigma that became his strangest regular yet.

 

—

 

Tired eyes scanned the room full of chatty customers, another coffee rush successfully completed. Tweek’s hands were incredibly shaky and his small ticks were visible, though he repressed them as much as he could. His eyes were twitching and his breathing was a little fast, so he decided that now would probably be a good time to take his break. Just when that thought occurred to him, the little bell rung and he flinched at the sound. Weary eyes immediately went to the door and he plastered his best fake smile on. And Tweek promptly froze, knees shaking.

The man who stood at the door was tall, incredibly so. He wore a dark blue jacket, with a small rocket ship on his left breast and a graphic t-shirt under that, sporting dark jeans. He had a black backpack slung onto one shoulder. On his head was a worn out blue chullo, that looked old and stretched from (possibly) years of usage. His (admittedly very handsome) face looked bored, almost impassive, but he was looking directly at Tweek. 

_Oh, Jesus Christ._

“W-Welcome!” He stuttered out when he found his voice.

The man stared at him, eyes unreadable, before he nodded and walked towards the counter. Tweek sniffed and bit his lip anxiously, trying not to stare at the handsome stranger. “Erm- how, uh, may I help you?” His last few words stumbled out, rushed and awkward. 

The stranger nodded again, his eyes examined the menu with a barely noticeable crinkle of his nose. His eyes then flickered to Tweek. Tweek pursed his lips so as to not let out the squeak that stood on the tip of his tongue. The stranger paused, and Tweek noted that his blue eyes were striking. He opened his mouth, but for a brief moment nothing came out. Then, the stranger spoke.

“A small hot chocolate, I’ll be drinking it here,” he said and, after a small pause, he added: “Please.” Tweek noted that his voice was deep, but still a little nasally, which was oddly charming. 

Tweek nodded, hands reaching out for the small coffee cups, still shaky and clumsy. He placed the porcelain cup on the counter and softly told the stranger his total. The man placed the exact change in his hands and Tweek bit his lip again, chewing on it. “Name?”

“Craig.” 

Craig. A simple, generic name, but strangely enough… it suited the handsome stranger. Tweek wrote it down on his copy of the receipt in his chicken scratch and nodded before handing him the extra receipt. Craig held it up before he walked to a table in the back. Tweek let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and turned to the milk steamer to get to work. His hands instinctively grabbed for the milk and the chocolate syrup. He steamed the milk, and made sure to count the seconds it took for it to reach what Tweek considered the perfect temperature. He then dusted cocoa powder at the bottom of the cup. He poured in the hot milk slowly, until it filled half the cup, before he poured in a generous amount of chocolate syrup and mixed it in with a spoon. Tweek bit the inside of his cheek, gently, before he grabbed the vanilla extract and put in just a bit of it, mixing that in too. It was a delicate process. Not something he did normally, but it always made the hot chocolate taste better in Tweek’s book. And he wanted Craig to like it more than his usual customers. For some reason. 

He poured the rest of the hot milk into the cup, pausing to mix, then used the last of it for simple rosetta latte art on top. He gently put the cup on a small platter before he placed it on the counter.

“Craig!” He called out, voice loud and clear. Tweek was still in the zone from work, a proud little smile on his face, even as his heart beat frantically in his chest.

Craig glanced up from his laptop, which he must have gotten while Tweek had been immersed in his work. Craig stood up and walked to the counter. Tweek smiled at him, and Craig paused expectantly, watching Tweek intently. Tweek then realized what was happening and flinched nervously. "Oh, er, um. Your chocolate."

Craig nodded at that, and mumbled a soft “Thanks,” before he took it and hurried along to his table. 

Meanwhile, Tweek was trying to not have a panic attack.

Oh, Jesus Christ. He shouldn’t have added that vanilla extract. Oh my God. You aren’t supposed to do that! Especially not without asking the customer. What if Craig was allergic to vanilla? He would have an allergic reaction, probably die because Tweek wouldn’t know what to even _do_ in a situation like that, and Tweek would get fired and possibly go to jail for attempted murder, where he would rot until the day he died! He didn’t want to go to jail. Oh God, oh _Jesus._

He was about to call his customer’s name again, to correct his mistake, but said customer took a sip of the drink. Tweek squeaked, and pressed his lips together firmly with baited breath.

And…

Well, nothing happened. Craig resumed typing on his laptop, taking small sips of his hot chocolate every now and then. Of course. Tweek waited for something to happen for a few minutes, but nothing did. Tweek exhaled, through his mouth, relief flooding him instantly. 

Craig stayed for a while after he finished his hot chocolate, fingers tapping on the keys of his computer, eyes never once straying from the screen. Tweek made coffee for a few more customers here and there, only walking up to take Craig's mug when he was in the clear and knew for sure that Craig had finished.

He cleared his throat and Craig stopped in the middle of typing, looking up at him. “Can I take this?” He smiled shyly. 

Craig nodded, fingers twitching ever so slightly over his keyboard. “Sure. I...” He trailed off, watching as Tweek grabbed the plate and cup carefully in his hands. Tweek looked at him, curiously. “Thanks. It was good.” 

Tweek blinked and nodded in response. “Can I get you anything e-else?” He asked, twitching at the sound of the bell at the front of the store, ringing out as customers came in. A rowdy group, this time, it seemed. Craig only shook his head, eyes set firmly on the screen of his computer as he began to type once more and Tweek knew this… conversation (if it could even be called that) was over. Tweek walked back to the counter, listening as his co-worker took the orders of the loud group that just came in. He washed the cup, and when he glanced back at Craig’s table, the tall man was gone. Only then did Tweek decide to take his break.

 

—

 

The day after that was a slow day at the coffee shop. Tweek had opened shop and after getting through the rush of the morning, then the day lulled into a slow haze. He had poured himself a few cups of coffee already, practicing his latte art with them, before gulping them down. He was there by himself, co-worker still not having arrived. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, while he stared at the clock on the wall, willing it to go faster. The bell from the door rang and Tweek squeaked, startled. He looked at the door and blinked.

Craig had returned. 

He must have liked the hot chocolate. Tweek felt a warmth bloom in his chest at the thought. He gazed at the black-haired young man, regarding him fondly. His chullo was pulled over his head again, and he had the same jacket on, but with a white NASA shirt under it.

“Welcome!” He said, a little too quickly, upon seeing him enter. Craig nodded at him in greeting, eyes going up almost immediately to look at the menu. Tweek waited patiently for Craig to finish exploring the menu, and suddenly blue eyes were on hazel. 

Tweek blinked at the brief silence, just a little uncomfortable. “Geh,” he twitched. “...Yes?”

“Mocha,” the customer, Craig, suddenly blurted out. “The caramel mocha thing. Small. I’m drinking it here again.” 

Tweek nodded, hands shaky as he told Craig his total. Craig paid in exact change again.  
“Um...name?” Tweek asked. He may have known the answer, but Craig didn't need to know that. What if he thought it was weird? 

“...Craig.” 

He wrote it down before he handed Craig his spare receipt. “O-Okay, Craig. It'll be done in a few minutes.” 

Craig stood still for a few moments. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but just before Tweek could ask, Craig nodded slowly. He then walked over to the same table as the day before and, Tweek noticed it this time around, pulled out his laptop.

Tweek decided actually getting to work would probably be better than staring at a guy he didn't even really know and got started on the Caramel Mocha Surprise. It was a popular sugary drink, so he wasn't all too surprised that Craig ordered it. When he finished the coffee portion of the actual drink, he was hard at work in making the nicest daisy he could with his unimpressive latte art skills. Pleased with his little masterpiece, he placed the cup on a plate and onto the front counter. 

“Craig!” Voice loud and clear once again, Tweek kept a proud smile on his face as Craig picked up his drink.

Craig muttered a soft thank you, before going back to his table once more. Their eyes met briefly again and Craig blinked dully, before immediately looking at his computer to type something down. 

When he went to pick up the dirty cup from Craig’s table, about an hour later, Craig spoke up. “Tweek.” 

_Huh? How did he know my name? Oh god._

__

__

_Ah, wait. Name tag._

“Um, yes, Craig?” 

Craig licked his lower lip. “Thanks. For the coffee.” 

“Gah…” Tweek blinked, body twitching involuntarily, but he smiled brightly. “I'm just doing m-my…ngh… job.” 

Craig didn't say anything in response, and he shut down his computer. Tweek shrugged and went to clean the dirty cup. 

When Craig left a few minutes later, it was hard to ignore the small desire in the back of his head that hoped he would come back soon.

 

—

And he did come back. 

He came back a few days later, though. Tweek noted that he had been hesitant before entering the coffee shop. Craig was hard to figure out. He ordered something different this time, something darker, and what Tweek thought he knew about him shattered. 

He came back the next day too. And the next and the next. He ordered something different each and every time. Dark chocolate mocha, green tea, caramel macchiato. He always seemed to go whenever Tweek was working during the day which was nice. The days he had night shift were shitty anyways, because he was always irritable and a little snappy. Craig never came on those days. Or maybe he did, way before Tweek had to work. 

He always did the same thing. He would come in, examine the menu briefly, before ordering something new from the vast menu the coffee shop had. Then he would wait at his table for his drink, typing away at his laptop. Sometimes, he looked tired. Other times he just looked a little frustrated as he wrote whatever it was he was writing down. He would drink his coffee slowly, almost painfully slow until it was all cold. Then he would gulp it down when it was cold. It was mildly unsettling to watch for Tweek, if he was being honest. 

He was predictably unpredictable. 

Craig was an enigma. A really handsome, incredibly monotone enigma. He wasn't even monotone in a boring way. He was interesting, because he was so hard to figure out. And so Tweek made his drinks with a little more flair than usual. He practiced his latte art at home just to make different designs that might maybe impress Craig. He even made a tiny guinea pig once, to see if anything happened. It was an idea he got after seeing the guinea pig on his lockscreen. Tweek had commented on it and Craig said it was a guinea pig he had back at his parents’, named Stripe III. He had said it with so much affection that it made Tweek’s heart do weird things. He wanted to get a reaction out of him, so he practiced his guinea pig latte art and gave it to him when he was sure it was good enough. Craig seemed mostly amused and maybe a little befuddled at it, so Tweek figured he must not have done it right after all. After that, it was back to normal. 

Back to the weird stares, awkward glances, and soft thank you’s. Sometimes they had brief conversations about the weather or something. Craig wasn't a man of many words.

Strangely enough, though, Tweek felt very at peace. He never knew what to expect from Craig, so he always wracked his brain with how he could experiment with his favorite customer’s drink. Would it be small? Large? Something sweet this time or maybe he’d go for something richer? The only thing he could really expect from Craig was the tap tap tapping his fingers made when he wrote in his laptop. Tweek always wondered what he was writing. Maybe he was reviewing every drink at the shop for his super obscure coffee blog. Maybe he was writing a weird diary.

Maybe he was a student.

This thought intrigued him. What would he major in? All the space related items he seemed to carry around screamed “future astronaut” or “stargazer extraordinaire”.

Tweek thought it suited him. Craig did look like he belonged in the stars.

Bleary eyed as Tweek usually was on the slower days, the exhaustion he felt was surreal on one particular Wednesday. He hadn't been able to sleep the night before, and he had class later so he could only take maybe a small power nap before he had to trudge off to some humanities class after work. He held in a yawn at the thought, blinking sleepily in his favorite customer’s direction. Craig was in his usual spot, typing away at his laptop. He was taking careful and slow sips of his steaming hot drink. 

His fingers tapped against the counter and it suddenly dawned on Tweek as he watched Craig furrow his brow in frustration at the laptop on his table. 

Tweek maybe had a little crush on this attractive stranger. Wait, scratch that. He definitely did. He would never make special drinks for anybody. It wasn't a thing he did. Ever. 

But Craig was…

Tweek wanted to impress him. He wanted to impress this weird guy who almost never made any actual facial expressions. The few expressions he did were so incredibly lovely to look at and it was kind of special to him. He had seen Craig smile once before (it was when he asked about Stripe III) and it felt so amazing to have that directed at him that it only strengthened his resolve at impressing the man. Tweek felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of that smile and he squeaked, eyes bulging as he realized just how hard he had fallen for this guy.

For Craig Whatever-the-fuck-his-last-name-was. 

Sweet Jesus, he barely knew anything about him. 

Craig suddenly looked up at Tweek, and Tweek blinked, startled at the sudden eye contact. His hands were shaking around the coffee thermos he held in his hands, but he still held his hand up and waved, shakily, with a shy smile. Craig looked mildly surprised, like he hadn't expected Tweek to be looking right at him. Which was fair, he supposed, but this somehow felt different. He couldn't pinpoint how it was different, because the mask of impassiveness was back quickly. Craig waved him over and Tweek bit his lip, unsure of what to expect, as he made his way over. “Anything I can help you with?” 

Craig stared. “I was about to ask the same thing.” 

Ah, so this is about the fact that Tweek was staring at him. Oh god. 

“Jesus Christ, um, no. Sorry!” Tweek blurted out, a little too quickly, leg bouncing just slightly. “I was just zoning out, that’s all!” 

Craig blinked slowly, raising an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed at the lie. 

Tweek flushed. “I...was wondering what you were writing.” He half-lied, reluctantly. He really had been curious about that.

The raven-haired teen hummed in understanding. “A thesis. For my astronomy class.” He said after a while. “Its due next week. I've never worked this hard on anything in my life. But I can't focus these days, so the words aren't coming out right.” 

For just a second, Tweek lets his mind wander. “Is that why y-you’re here everyday? To focus?” He crinkles his nose.

Craig tilts his head and swallows slowly. “I only come here if you're working.” 

Tweek isn't sure what that means but he's suddenly very dizzy. His heart beats just a little faster and his mouth feels dry. However, Craig is suddenly putting away his laptop. 

“I have to go.” He mumbled, a little too quickly, and Tweek blinked in surprise, watching as Craig seemed to rush his way out of the coffee shop. Tweek stayed in place, staring at the empty space where Craig’s laptop had been. 

He swallowed dryly. 

Jesus christ. 

—

 

What the fuck was that. 

What the ever-living fuck was that. Why did he say that? Why couldn't he just say something normally?

First ever conversation he has with the guy and _that’s_ what comes out of his mouth?

He could have said: “Yeah. Being here helps me focus.” or even “Nah. I just like your drinks.” 

No matter what his brain said, his mouth loved to spout nonsense. Every single time. 

Craig Tucker was many things. He was the son of Laura and Thomas Tucker. He was the big brother of Tricia Tucker. He was the...father (?) of Stripe III. He was an aspiring astro-engineer. He was boring.

He was a little awkward. 

He didn't try to be. He was overall pretty cool about everything and to everyone. Sure, he could be kind of an asshole. But who wasn't? People pissed him off sometimes, because people were hard to talk to. It's not like he’s a complete mess. He was just boring and it made him seem aloof. And honestly, if he wasn’t talking about his guinea pig or space, he probably wasn’t very interested. He doesn't normally have the time (or the patience) to focus on much else. He missed his guinea pig and he wanted to get through his classes. 

Having lived in Denver all his life didn't really do anything to add interest to his life.His life was nice and boring and that’s just the way he liked it. He had a routine that he liked to stick to. 

But then, it was on a day when his routine had been disrupted that Craig had seen the blonde barista.

The library he usually went to for studying was just across a quaint coffee shop. But, the library had been closed for renovations. Craig had grimaced at the thought of going to any other place, but there was no way he was going to focus at his college dorm or even the libraries there, that were always full of students. The somewhat empty coffee shop was probably his best bet for peace. 

With a heavy sigh, he had crossed the street and peeked inside. It did still look generally empty, save for a few people who were doing their own thing. And at the counter, there stood a cute, blond barista who looked equal parts jittery and exhausted. Craig was fascinated. The blond barista held a small cup in his hand, and he drank out of it shakily, one eye closing as he twitched involuntarily. 

...He thought he should probably step inside for a closer look. 

But when he did, the barista’s hazel-green (whoa) eyes were suddenly on him and Craig felt a little breathless. He steeled himself when those eyes were on him and made sure his face was impassive. He just needed a table so he could sit down and work on his thesis. He had no idea why he was walking to the counter, after the barista welcomed him. He doesn't even like coffee, he doesn't even like hot beverages in general, but his feet had been moving on their own. His eyes were still going up to examine the menu. He couldn't find any cold beverages. At the sound of the barista asking him how he could help, Craig’s eyes snapped down to meet hazel green. 

He was _pretty_. Craig had never used that word to describe any man before. But it was the only way to describe him. His eyes were wide and sunken in with exhaustion, dark bags under his eyes. His cheeks were a little hollow, and he was skinny. His long blond hair was pinned back to keep it out ot his eyes and it was in a ponytail but it still stood up wildly, a little messy. Freckles littered his face and Craig had the strangest urge to map them out like constellations, just like he did when he was younger. 

He opened his mouth to ask if there were any cold drinks. Or maybe it was to ask if the barista had any free time after work today to go out. What came out was neither of these things. 

He had a hard time drinking his hot chocolate. It was delicious, for sure, but it was too hot. The sweetness filled his sensitive tongue but the heat overpowered it and he ended up burning his tongue. Then focusing on his thesis was impossible. Because of the burn on his tongue and the pretty barista. When said barista had come up to him to pick up his empty cup (that he downed once it had gone a lot colder), he noticed two things. A name tag that read Tweek and hands that looked really nice, despite the colorful bandages that were on his fingers. 

Huh.

 _I should ask him out,_ is what he had thought.

But his mouth was useless, as it turned out. So he didn’t ask him out. He mumbled an awkward thank you and then left a few minutes later, when he realized he wasn’t going to get any work done like this, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that wanted to go back and order another drink. 

Then the next day, he went back. He tried not to look too pleased at the fact that Tweek looked happy to see him. He tried not to look at Tweek too much in general. It was incredibly distracting and he really needed to work on his thesis. But when those eyes met his, his brain fizzled for a few seconds. 

_Ask him out._

“Mocha.” He blurted out, instead. “The caramel mocha thing. Small. I’m drinking it here again.”

_Great going, Craig Fucker. I don’t even like coffee._

It had been an impulsive thought. Craig wasn’t one for impulsive thoughts so this surprised him.

He supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised that Tweek didn’t remember his name. He probably had a lot of customers, after all. He muttered his name, trying not to sound too disappointed. 

Then after an hour of unsuccessful writing and small sips of a coffee he didn’t want (but still tastes strangely good, despite how hot it was), Tweek came over to clean up his empty cup. 

“Tweek.” 

“Um, yes, Craig?” 

_Ask. Him. Out._

Craig licked his lower lip. “Thanks. For the coffee.” 

Not at all what he wanted to say, but the smile Tweek gave him left him breathless. 

So, after that, he managed to sneak the coffee shop into his daily routine. Even after the library opened again, he would enter the coffee shop whenever Tweek was working. Half of his time there was spent trying to work on his very important thesis, the other half was Craig trying to get over his awkwardness so he could just talk to the barista normally. 

But he couldn't do it. Whenever he looked at the pretty blond, he lost his nerve. So he tried to focus on his thesis, he tried not to stare and he tried not to be weird about the little glances he gave the blonde occasionally. 

Then at one point, on a day when he actually managed to write stuff down for his paper, he glances up and is surprised to see Tweek looking right back. 

So Craig decided to do the thing and called him over. 

But then well. That happened.

And so here he was. 

_What the fuck was that._

Tweek probably thought he was creepy now. _Fuck._

When he told his best friend Clyde about this, (something he wouldn't normally ever do but desperate times call for desperate measures), Clyde called him Denver’s most useless homosexual. While laughing. Flipping him off and telling him to fuck off did nothing to stop the laughs. 

“Tweek’s probably not even gay.” He muttered, pulling his chullo over his eyes in embarrassment, as he laid down on Clyde’s couch. 

Clyde sputtered between laughs. “W-Wait, what'd you say? Tweek?” 

Craig let out a grunt, grumpily. 

“Tweek, as in Tweek Tweak?” 

Craig peeked at his friend weirdly, raising an eyebrow at his baffled facial expression. “What.” 

Clyde grinned, biting his lip. “No way… It's way too coincidental…” he muttered to himself. “But, who else would have that name?”

“What the fuck are you going on about, jackass.” Craig snapped. “Do you know him?” 

“Depends.” Clyde grinned. “Is he blonde? A little jittery? Twitchy, even?” 

Craig frowned. 

“Oh shit, it really is him, then! Dude! I totally know him!” 

“Am I missing something here?” 

Clyde scratched the back of his head. “Remember when we met in elementary? I told you I used to live in a town named South Park? I knew a kid named Tweek there! He was weird...kinda jittery and loud. Paranoid as fuck. Never got to talk to him too much, but I remember he would hang out with these three asshole kids sometimes…” Clyde paused. “But then I moved away so.” 

Silence.

“How do you even remember that?” Craig scrunched up his nose ever so slightly. 

“He was memorable.” Clyde argued. “He once screamed on stage while banging on a piano about how North Korea was going to bomb us and we were all going to die. He made a little girl cry, dude.” 

Craig didn't know quite what to say to that. 

“You should totally take me with you next time you go! It could be a real ice breaker.” Clyde grinned, brightly. “I could be your wingman!” 

“No.” Craig didn't even bother lifting his head for that. 

“Aw!” The chestnut-haired boy whined. “Come on, Craig! I’d like to see somebody who can relate to past South Park craziness! Also, icebreaker!” he insisted. 

Craig actually considered it briefly. 

Clyde was pouting at him, but Craig wasn't looking at him. 

“Ugh. He already thinks I’m a creep. If I bring you, he's going to know I talk about him too.”

“Well, he already knows you only go to the shop when he's there.” Clyde teased. 

“Fuck you, asshole. Just for that, you’re not going.” Craig flipped him off.

“Aw, what? But, Craig–!”

“Shut up, Clyde.” 

—

He was too freaked out to go to the coffee shop after that. He wrote the rest of his thesis in his dorm, despite the loud voice of his talkative roommate who never shut up. It was difficult to finish it, but he managed to crank out his thesis about supernovas just before he had to send it in. He sent it on his computer and leaned back against his bed with a sigh of relief.

And so, he had time to think about what he was going to do about it. He knew eventually Clyde would want to see Tweek. But if he’s really as paranoid as Clyde had said, that might freak him out. Or maybe it would comfort him?

 _Who fucking knows._ He closed his eyes in frustration, letting out a quick huff of breath through his nose. He ran a finger over his knuckles and he thought of Tweek’s hands. 

They were really nice hands. He had never noticed anyone else’s hands before. 

And Tweek was handsome. Sure, he looked tired and messy most of the time, but that only added to his charm. His nervous smiles and shy waves made something in Craig’s stomach stir. He was distracting and _beautiful_ and Craig really wanted to ask him out. Nothing was really stopping him aside from his own emotional incompetence. He was usually so in control of his emotions, but this was...

 _God dammit._

Emotional incompetence would never get him anywhere with pretty blonds. 

So he made the decision to ask him out. Tomorrow. 

Nonetheless, he grabbed his keys and made his way outside. He needed to think about what he was going to say. 

—

Somehow his feet had brought him to the coffee shop anyways and from the window (to his surprise) he could see Tweek there. He looked even more exhausted than usual, but it was definitely him. His hand was in a ball, clutching his apron and he was jittery. He looked irritated beyond belief. It was adorable.

Tweek’s arms suddenly twitched in a weird jerky movement when his coworker said something to him, and suddenly his eyes were on Craig. 

Tweek’s mouth fell open, just a bit before he immediately stifled it with his hand. Craig made a split second decision and entered the shop, the little bell ringing out and making the blond barista squeak. 

“Craig!” 

Craig inhaled at the sound of his name and walked towards him, steeling himself.

“One hot chocolate. Small, please. To go this time.” 

Tweek looked a little spooked, but his hands were already hovering over the small cup. His hand twitched just slightly before he grabbed it and went immediately to work. Craig, instead of walking towards his usual table, watched Tweek work. The concentration on his face was something that Craig had always found incredibly attractive. No shy smiles or jittery hands. He was focused and his eyebrows were scrunched together. Occasionally he would lick his dry lips and Craig had to swallow dryly at that. 

When Tweek finished his hot chocolate, he handed it to Craig and Craig looked at his hands. They were covered in bandages, as usual, and one of them (the one holding the cup) had a little yellowing bruise on the back of it. His fingers were long and slender and they were wrapped around his coffee cup. They were beautiful hands and Craig had the overwhelming urge to hold them. Instead, he grabbed the cup, feeling Tweek shudder when Craig’s cold fingers gently brushed against his. Craig stood in place, feeling the warm drink in his hand and watched as Tweek bit his lip, anxiously. Craig wracked his brain for the thing he had planned to say.

“I was really worried, y’know?” 

He hadn't expected Tweek to talk first. 

“What.” 

Tweek twitched and looked surprised himself, as if he hadn't expected himself to talk either. 

“I was worried about you! Its… it's been a few days… um…” he hesitated. 

Craig tilted his head. “I'm… sorry?” 

“No, I just,” he started. “Geh! I'm sorry, that's so weird! I just got worried because you would come every time I was on shift and it really would make my day when you would come in and order something different every single day! Of course I would worry about my favorite customer!” His voice was a little loud and panicky, and he was talking fast, Craig felt his impassive face drop for just a second and his eyes widened a bit. 

“Favorite customer?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Tweek frowned, frustrated, but his face was flushed red. “Of course! I… I really like you, Craig. Is… that weird?” 

Craig was speechless. 

“I… No. It's not weird, Tweek.” He said, after a few seconds. “I really like you too. I'm really glad you make me my drinks.” 

Tweek look startled. “Gah! R-Really?”

Craig’s face felt hot again, but there seemed to be nothing stopping it this time. “Yeah. I…” He paused. “I don't actually like hot beverages, at all.” 

Tweek looked surprised at that. “What?” 

_You're being weird dude, fucking **stop.**_

Craig cleared his throat. “I don't actually like hot drinks. My tongue is sensitive, so I tend to avoid them.” 

Tweek’s eyebrows were raised high, but suddenly the smile he was given was so bright, it was almost blinding. Craig felt his chest go tight and his face flushed hotter. Tweek suddenly smiled, teeth bared just slightly and, fascinatingly so, Craig realized he had a gap in between his two front teeth. And somehow, it only made him cuter. 

“You know, we have cold drinks.” He suddenly said.

“What.” 

“Yeah. Maybe not a lot, but we have water and soft drinks…” 

This was embarrassing. 

Tweek only smiled wider. “You really don’t think it’s weird? That you're my favorite customer? I mean, I barely know you.” 

Craig couldn't help but smile back. “My name is Craig Tucker. I'm an astronomy major in DU and I really like guinea pigs.” 

Tweek nose scrunched up as he laughed and Craig never wanted to stop hearing his laugh. “I’m Tweek Tweak. Yes, my last name is Tweak with an ‘ea’. I'm a drama major in a local special college and I…” He paused. “I… actually really, really like coffee. And I really want to go on a date with you.” 

Craig let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “God dammit.” 

“H-Huh?” Tweek looked worried all of a sudden. 

“No, don't worry. I just…” I've been meaning to ask you that for weeks and you just say it like its nothing. “I… was going to ask that.” 

“Oh!” Tweek’s face flushed, but he smiled, pleased. 

Craig swallowed again and nodded, licking his lips. “Tomorrow? After you get out of work?” 

“Yes! E-Er, I mean, um…” He flushed again. “I get out at 6pm.” 

Craig tried to stifle a smile but found it was impossible, he held out a hand awkwardly. “It's a date then, Tweek.” 

Tweek grinned and held his hand and Craig marveled at how soft his hands were, despite the bumpiness of the bandages. “Yeah. And Craig?” 

“Huh?” 

“Your hot chocolate is probably cold now.” 

“Oh. Perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was _inspired_ by [Sweet Tweak's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821674/chapters/15572257), because that fic is amazing and nerdloser Craig who doesn't know how to talk to the guy he likes is my favorite fucking thing in the world. AND he's an astronomer? Sign me the fuck up. 
> 
> Anyways read that fic too, because it's amazing.
> 
> Thinking about writing another one-shot for that farmers au that's going around. We'll see.
> 
> I've got an sp [twitter](https://twitter.com/wondertweeker) and an sp [tumblr](https://wondertweeker.tumblr.com), so feel free to chat me up. ;)


End file.
